


The Brotherhood

by Dramione84



Series: M for Murder [11]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Crime, Drama, F/M, Kidnapping, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 22:44:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 19,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8420050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dramione84/pseuds/Dramione84
Summary: *Nominated for Best Hermione Characterization #IsItHotInHere16* *Nominated for Best Crime/Mystery Fic #SomethingWicked16*A sinister collective of Dark Wizards are making their way from Persia into Europe in search of an artifact, smuggled out of the Ottoman Empire, that may hold the key to immortality. Will Hit Wizard, Draco Malfoy, and Auror Hermione Granger be able to stop their infiltration before it's too late? Sequel to M for Murder





	1. Prologue

Stepping out of the hotel lobby and onto the street, she was dazzled by the bright May sunshine. Slipping sunglasses onto her face, she felt her husband reach for her hand as he joined her on the pavement.

"So what's this musk thing you are dragging me to?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "'The Alhambra Mosque' up there on the hill," she told him, pointing across the street.

Draco frowned. "I don't see anything except trees, love."

"It's not far, google says it's a three minute walk." She smiled, pulling him across the street.

"You know, this isn't how normal newlyweds spend their honeymoon," he complained, pulling her back towards him and into his arms.

She smiled up at him coyly. "And how is it that normal newlyweds spend their honeymoon?" she asked.

Bending down to kiss behind her ear, he whispered, "They don't normally leave their beds."

Hermione frowned. "We spent the first two days in bed, that, I am sure, is plenty!"

.

"So what is this bit called?" Draco frowned, flipping the pages of the guidebook over.

"The Court of the Myrtles," Hermione replied wistfully, totally in awe of the beauty of the architecture.

Draco's head snapped up. "Seriously?! She isn't here is she?!"

Turning, confusion etched across her face, Hermione stared at her husband "Who?"

"Moaning Myrtle."

Hermione rolled her eyes for the umpeenth time that day. "Don't be ridiculous."

.

"Oh no you don't," he murmured, steering her away from where she was headed.

"What now?" Hermione hissed, turning as Draco's grip on her waist tightened.

"You are NOT going to spend our honeymoon in bookshops!" he told her, nodding towards the entrance to the Charles V Palace bookshop.

Hermione pouted silently, looking up at Draco's scowling face through her eyelashes.

"Fine," he relented, releasing his grip and watching his witch skip triumphantly away.

.

Stepping out of the shower, he forwent the towel, striding over to where his wife lay on the bed reading, attempting to remove her book from her with a growl.

"Hermione…." he complained, his arms braced on either side of her.

"Draco," she mimicked. "You are dripping all over me."

He threw her a coy smirk. "I'd rather it be the other way round."

Hermione sighed, "You're incorrigible. Anyway, did you know the Alhambra tiles are remarkable in that they contain nearly all, if not all, of the seventeen mathematically possible wallpaper groups?"

"No, strangely enough, I did not know that. Interior design is more my Mother's forte….oww." He glared down at his arm that now smarted from her slap.

"It's not about interior design, it's about mathematics!"

"Semantics, wench; and you will pay for that," he growled, snatching the book from her and tossing it onto the couch.

Hermione's giggles were suddenly interrupted by tapping at the balcony doors.

Draco growled loudly, glaring at the doors.

"We are on honeymoon. Who the hell would send us a letter?! Is it too much for me to want to fuck my wife in peace on our honeymoon?"

Wriggling out from under him, Hermione padded over to the doors and let the owl in, untying the note.

"I swear to Salazar, if that is Potter….." his words were cut off by the look on his witch's face.

"What's the matter? What's happened Hermione?"

Tears glistened in her eyes as she looked up at him.

"It's Pansy. She's been kidnapped"

* * *

A/N: Once again I must thank xxDustNight88 for her invaluable help. Loves ya!x

This was deliberately short and sweet ;) I will try and post updates frequently but currently it wont be as quick as M for Murder was updated...sorry! Looking forward to your reviews :)


	2. Chapter 2

Removing his glasses, Harry ran his fingers through his hair and sat down opposite the Spanish Minister. He had been awake a total of 39 hours now, and his patience was wearing more than a little thin.

Placing the file on the ornate mahogany desk, he sighed and put his glasses back on.

"So what are you not telling me, Minister?" he asked, fixing his stare on the older gentleman.

The minister smiled. "Everything our aurors know is in that report. If you want more information, you will have to contact the Moroccan Ministry."

"If you know nothing, why are you involved at all?" he inquired, his tone revealing his anger.

"Mr Potter, you might be able to use that tone in England but I can assure you, here in Spain, you have no influence. We are involved because the yacht was found drifting in Spanish waters and our team was sent out because traces of Dark Magic were found on the yacht. However, the last place your friends were seen was in Morocco, so I suggest that the answers you seek are there."

Raised voices in the ante office caused both men to break their staring contest and stand, just as the door was forced open violently. A small witch of no more than 20 years old tumbled into the room, apologising profusely, "Senor, I tried to stop him but he wouldn't listen."

The Minister waved his hand dismissively. "Do not worry, Constanza, it is to be expected," he told her before turning his attention to the blond man, who had just barged his way into the office.

"Senor, as I have just informed your superior…"

"I heard what you told Potter, its not like you silenced the room, and while he might not have much influence outside of England, I am a Malfoy, and I have plenty of influence across the Wizarding world. You will find out what happened on that yacht, and you will help us bring my Godson's mother home, or so help me I will make sure your tenure as Spain's Minister for Magic will be the shortest in history." Draco seethed, glaring daggers at the Minister whose taut smile remained fixed on his face, angering him all the more.

Draco made to grab his wand but felt a hand on his arm. Looking down he saw his wife stood calmly by his side, eyes conveying her thoughts without the need for legilimency. He felt his anger wash over him and subside. Her ability to understand his fears, and yet sooth him, still amazed him. They could fight to the point of destruction, but they always brought each other back from oblivion. All it took was one look, one touch, and he felt himself pulled back and grounded. Merlin knew it was one of the reasons he loved her as much as he did.

Turning to the Minister she smiled. "You will have to forgive my husband; he is a passionate man, especially when it comes to his family. Ms. Parkinson may not be a Malfoy, but she is family. I should like you to read this letter from Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic and Secretary General of the Global Wizarding Alliance," Hermione stated, handing him the letter. She was referring to the Council that had been set up after the second wizarding war to ensure more cooperation between Wizarding and Muggle intelligence agencies, as well as cooperation between the various Ministries across the world. With the threat of Dark wizards coming into Europe from the Middle East, it had seemed imperative to share intelligence and work together to stop the threat of Wizarding terrorism. Hermione watched the Minister visibly pale as he took the letter.

"You will note where it says that Mr. Malfoy and I are now the lead investigators for this case, and that you are to turn over all the files to Mr. Potter, our supervisor, and give all three of us full access to your Auror department, immediately."

Harry couldn't suppress the grin that spread across his face as he watched his best friend take charge. She always had something up her sleeve, but he hadn't been expecting her to contact Kingsley so quickly.

The Spanish Minister turned to his aide. "Constanza, please escort Senor Potter and his colleagues to the Auror department and send Miguel to see me immediately."

"Yes, Senor," the young woman blushed, leading the trio from the room.

Moments later, Hermione was ordering the Aurors about as though she had been their superior for years. Mateo and Alejandro, the two most senior field agents, brought two boxes into the office Hermione had commandeered.

"Excuse me, Miss…" Mateo began.

"Auror Granger-Malfoy," Hermione corrected him firmly, as she looked up from the file Harry had given her when they left the Minister's office.

"Where would you like these?"

Hermione frowned. "Is that all for this case?"

"These are the files for the kidnappings, si," Mateo informed her as she gestured for the pair to put the boxes on the desk.

"These are the files for the Dark Magic traces that have been discovered in the Bay of Cadiz," Alejandro explained to her.

Draco looked over at Harry, who shrugged his shoulders, looking just as confused as anyone.

Alejandro looked at the English trio. "You are investigating the kidnappings si? And the smuggling operation from Morocco to Spain? It is all part of the work you have been doing in Venice, no?"

The silence was deafening as Head Auror Miguel Sanchez returned to what was usually his office.

Five pairs of eyes fixed on him as he shut the door.

"It's time for me to brief you on 'The Brotherhood'."


	3. Chapter 3

Pouring herself another cup of tea, she bit her lip as she pondered all that Miguel had said.

"So this 'Brotherhood'... Voldemort was part of it?" she questioned, frowning into her cup as she inhaled the soft aroma of the Earl Grey tea.

"Yes. Everyone assumed he was working alone with his own agenda but he wasn't the first Dark wizard to rise to prominence. For centuries there have been Dark wizards, mostly from Persia, some from Europe, but all connected to this secret organization. They have one goal in mind: Immortality. Blood purity is part of their doctrine because they believe only pureblood witches and wizards deserve immortality, and they seek dominance over the entire world- both muggle and wizard."

Harry spoke up, confusion marring his brow. "I don't understand..why are we only just hearing about this now? We fought a war in wizarding England to defeat Voldemort, and we fought in the Middle East to stop Dark wizards from coming into Europe to take his place..we had intelligence, we had covalent operations, but we didn't know about this." He stole a glance at Hermione, who put her cup down on the saucer and sighed.

"We did Harry, we knew they were coming to Europe and we knew they had purpose, we just didn't know they had an agenda that Voldemort was part of." She turned to Miguel. "What else do you know?"

Miguel pulled the files out of the boxes. "We know that for some time there has been an increase in smuggling activity all along the Mediterranean, particularly around the Bay of Cadiz and Venice. We know that both routes are via Morocco. Several aristocratic families from across Europe have been targeted. Almost all have links to Voldemort and were his followers."

"How many kidnappings?" Draco asked, the tension in his voice apparent.

Miguel sighed and past him the files, "Five, including Ms. Parkinson."

"Leads?"

"Our department is looking into that," Miguel answered, looking away.

"Why have they been kidnapping people linked to the Death Eaters?" Hermione asked, the pieces of the puzzle clicking in her mind.

"We think Voldemort had something in his possession that 'The Brotherhood' needed in their quest for immortality," Miguel told her, passing her the intelligence reports.

"The Philosopher's Stone " Hermione murmured, causing Harry to look up sharply.

"The stone was destroyed," Harry reminded her carefully.

Hermione pulled her notebook from her briefcase and flipped through the pages. "I knew something about all this sounded familiar but I couldn't put my finger on it before. The darkest books in the Zabini library, the ones Bill had to help me with, they all spoke about The Elixir. But that could have been anything so it didn't click before. Now, I know they were talking about The Elixir of Life. Yes, the Stone held by Nicholas Flamel was destroyed, but it might not have been the only one in existence." Flipping through a few more pages, Hermione narrowed her eyes at the words written there. After a short pause, she continued, "And even if it was, only we knew it had been destroyed and we assumed Voldemort wanted it to regain his corporeal form. When he came back we were concentrating on the horcruxes, but if you think about it, if he had horcruxes, he didn't need the Stone for immortality- he achieved that without the Stone. There must be something more, something we are still missing, and it must have to do with the Elixir of Life."

She watched as realisation dawned on Harry and Draco's faces.

Draco was the first to speak. "So the increase in activity we have seen in the smuggling of Dark Artefacts, that is because they are looking for a Stone to create the Elixir of Life?" he asked, trying to gain insight into his wife's ruminations.

Hermione frowned. "There must be something else they are looking for, an artefact that goes with the Stone." She turned to Harry. "Remember Flamel could only retain his immortality all the while he was able to produce the Elixir? What if there was more to it than that?"

Harry smiled. "I know where you are going with this."

Hermione pulled a piece of parchment out of her bag as Draco groaned, watching the smile on her lips as she penned her letter. When she finished, she handed it to Miguel, who looked at each of them in turn, wondering what he'd missed.

Draco huffed, "I should have expected you to end up in a library on our honeymoon shouldn't I?"

.

Placing the cup of espresso down on the table, Blaise strode into the villa as he heard her call his name. "Hermione, mio amore, how was Spain?" he asked her, embracing her warmly.

"It was beautiful. I just wish it hadn't been cut so short," she sighed, looking up at him, seeing the same look in his eyes she had seen in Draco's. They were all deeply worried about Pansy, but none more than Blaise and Draco, who considered her a sister.

"Where is Draco, piccolina?" he asked her, his face showing his concern.

"He went straight to the study. He isn't happy." She grinned at the confused expression on her friends face. "Putting the honeymoon on hold to find Pansy would be one thing, especially if we were staying in Spain. It's the fact that I cut it short to come here to use the library that is causing him to sulk."

Blaise sat down on the sofa, mulling over her words. "Is he upset because…"

Hermione sensed where he was going with this. "Of course not; he was already mad at me for being typically stuck in books."

Blaise chuckled loudly. "Oh mia bella, I can sympathise with the poor man, but really, he should have upped his game then."

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with my game," intoned Draco as he strode into the lounge, going straight to the sideboard and pouring himself a double Firewhiskey before turning to the pair.

"We need to find her Blaise," he told him, as they shared a silent look.

"I know," he agreed somberly. "I think you need to speak with Ron"

"Yes, where is he?" asked Hermione, growing concerned. "I thought he would be at the Ministry in Spain."

Blaise shook his head. "Molly and Arthur have been here to help look after Cosimo. Ron hasn't left their suite since he returned. He is distraught. Binny is beside herself as she cannot get him to eat anything."

Leaving the two men behind, Hermione rushed towards the suite on the third floor.

Draco held Blaise's gaze as Hermione left the room. "What aren't you telling me?"

Blaise sighed.

"Pansy was being blackmailed."

.


	4. Chapter 4

With her hand resting on the doorknob, Hermione smiled to herself as she heard the familiar sounds of a lullaby she'd heard sung many times to James Potter. She felt her heart clench in her chest at the bittersweetness of the moment, feeling the emotions of the woman singing the soft tune. Slowly opening the door, she softly padded into the room, careful not to disturb her godson or startle his grandparents. Looking round the room she saw Arthur dozing on the sofa, his wife Molly gently rocking in the chair next to him with Cosimo wrapped in a bundle in her arms as she sang.

Sensing her presence, Molly looked up and smiled. "Ah, hello Hermione. Sorry, let me just put little Cosimo in his crib," she whispered, starting to rise.

"Here, let me," Hermione offered, stepping towards her, arms outstretched.

Molly smiled and gently transferred him, assisting Hermione as she cradled the baby in her arms. Hermione pressed a soft kiss to his forehead as she walked him over to the crib, before carefully lowering him into it.

She turned, biting the inside of her lips to stop herself laughing as Molly, frowning, nudged Arthur who awoke with a rather undignified snort.

"Sorry, must have dozed off there. Hello, Hermione."

"Honestly!" Molly admonished her husband as they made their way into the adjoining sitting room.

Binny set down a tray of tea and toast on the coffee table before disappearing with a crack. Hermione poured Molly and Arthur a cup each before settling on the sofa opposite them.

"You must be exhausted Molly. I am sure Binny would be only too pleased to help take care of Cosimo so you can have a break," Hermione suggested sympathetically.

"Nonsense, I raised seven children without elves; one grandchild is not a problem," she waved, dismissing the idea.

"How is Ron?" she asked them, looking towards the shut bedroom door.

"Utterly beside himself," Arthur sighed as Molly brushed away the beginnings of tears that threatened to burst forth.

"Poor boy hasn't left the room since he returned. He spent twelve hours with the Aurors-most of which he was being interviewed since he was the last person to see her," Molly murmured, pain evident in her voice.

Arthur patted her arm in comfort. "He was at the apothecary in Cadiz getting some teething potion for Cosimo. When he got back to the yacht, Cosimo was screaming and Pansy was nowhere to be seen. There was evidence of a struggle, so he knew immediately she'd been taken. He alerted the authorities, who found traces of Dark magic, but there wasn't a strong enough trace for them to follow," he told her, his tone somber.

.

A little while later, Hermione found herself kneeling beside Ron's bed. She reached out to brush his fringe out of his eyes, his blank expression staring back at her, unmoved by the comforting gesture.

"Oh, Ron," she murmured, tears staining her cheeks.

He whimpered under her touch, his eyes filling as he blinked. As his hands reached out for her, she allowed him to pull her in. She climbed onto the bed beside him, feeling him shift slightly as he drew her to him, desperately clinging to her like a child.

She wasn't sure how long they lay like that before she heard the door softly creak open. Looking up, she saw Draco standing at the end of the bed, one eyebrow quirked questioningly.

She glanced over at the now sleeping Ron and shrugged slightly at her husband, who motioned for her to follow him out of the room.

Entering their suite on the floor below, Draco cast a silencing charm on the room.

"Why is Weaslebee lying in bed?" he questioned her, disdain dripping from his words.

Hermione glared at him. "He's distraught!" she hissed.

"Lying in bed isn't going to bring Pansy back, Hermione," Draco sneered, starting to pace the room.

"I know it won't, Draco, but what do you expect him to do? He isn't an Auror, and he feels hopeless because, if he was one, like you, Harry, and me, then he would be out there looking for her. Can't you see this from his point of view? What if it were me?"

Draco spun round. "If it were you, I would turn the whole world upside down looking for you, and I would face Hades himself to bring you back. I wouldn't be moping around, lying in bed, and feeling sorry for myself," he yelled, pain burning in his eyes. Merlin knew he was hurting enough for Pansy and he was fighting to find her, he didn't even want to think about it being Hermione. It was bad enough when Avery had taken her, albeit briefly. He considered that some of the worst moments of his life.

"He isn't feeling sorry for himself, he feels guilty and blames himself," she cried.

"And so he should!" Draco yelled, glaring at her.

"You bastard, how can you say that?"

"Because he knew, Hermione. He knew she was in danger and he said nothing, to Blaise, to you, to me. Not even to Potter."

Hermione's face was a mixture of shock and confusion.

Draco threw the letters down on the coffee table before dropping onto the couch.

"She was being blackmailed. He tried paying off the blackmailer, and kept it all to himself. He should have told us," Draco muttered, his head in his hands as Hermione took the letters and started to read.

"How did Blaise find out?" she murmured.

"Weasley confessed when he returned, after Blaise found him tearing the suite apart," Draco sighed, looking up at Hermione.

"I don't understand," she murmured, scanning the letters. "What would they be blackmailing Pansy about?"

Draco let out a wry chuckle. "Isn't it obvious?"

"I thought you said the Parkinson's were neutral during the war?"

"Neutral, yes, but still part of Wizarding aristocracy," he stated bitterly. "Her father, no doubt, had ties to The Brotherhood. He certainly had ties to Voldemort," he sighed.

Hermione sat down beside him, lacing her fingers with his.

"We are never escaping any of this are we? It's always going to haunt all of us, somehow, isn't it?" he muttered, the resentment giving an edge to his tone.

Resting her head on his shoulder, she felt him bury his free hand in her curls as she closed her eyes. "I don't know, but I do know that no matter what, we will find her and we will put an end to this somehow," she murmured.

.

It was late evening when Ron appeared in the study, a large Firewhiskey in his hand. Blaise and Draco looked up from the letters as Hermione rushed to him, hugging him tightly. He smiled down at her before looking over at Draco.

"I owe you an apology," he stated, shifting uncomfortably.

Draco said nothing, his features classically Malfoy-stoic.

"I should have come to you, but she begged me not to," Ron told him, looking away.

"Why? What hold did they have over her?" Hermione asked, gently pressing him for more information.

Ron hesitated before answering, "They told her they would come for her and then they would come for you."

"Me?" Hermione whispered, shock evident in her voice. "What would they want with _me_?"

"I'm not entirely sure; all I know is they thought her Father knew where it was hidden," he told her.

"The Stone," she stated, returning to her notes.

"That, and the Cup." Ron explained, sitting down.

Three pairs of eyes fixed on Ron as Hermione asked,

"What Cup?"

.


	5. Chapter 5

The silence was deafening as Ron looked from one person to another before settling his gaze on Hermione.

"The Cup of Immortality."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Draco snapped, his last shred of patience breaking as he glared at the red-headed wizard.

Ron glared at Draco before turning his attention back to Hermione who sat slack jawed at Blaise's antique desk.

"Djemscheed," she muttered, eyes widening as she grabbed hold of one of the books that was open in front of her.

Draco turned to Blaise, who shrugged, just as confused as he was.

"Care to enlighten the rest of us?" he asked his wife, growing increasingly frustrated with her and their friends keeping him in the dark.

Hermione flipped the pages over hurriedly, muttering to herself. "This," she stated, thrusting the book at her husband. Draco snatched it up impatiently, immediately recognising it as her Major Case Squad notebook.

"This is from Bakhtak's notebook-you said his notes were a mixture of arithmancy, ancient runes, and Farsi," he replied, looking over her notes.

"Yes, the one word that kept coming up was Djemscheed." She pointed to where it was written in her notes. "The literal translation of the word is 'shining', so obviously that didn't make any sense." Elaborating, Hermione picked up another book. "I don't know why I didn't see it before," she muttered, flipping the pages as Blaise leaned over to take a look at her case notes. He'd been vaguely aware that they had an informant in a safe house known as Bahktak 'The Ghost"; a Middle Eastern albino, who was a high profile target for the Ministry in hiding due to the rather large bounty on his head. The status of this man was unknown to him. However, there was little Draco could say about his cases, and Hermione could only divulge so much when he helped her with her research in the Zabini library vault.

"Here!" Hermione cried, pulling Blaise from his reverie as she thrust the book under their noses, motioning for Ron to take a look as well.

"The Cup of Djemscheed: The Cup of Divination, Scrying and Immortality."

"How does any of this help us find Pansy though?" Ron asked, confused as Hermione furiously scribbled notes.

"Well, if we know what they are after, it's certainly a start. Isn't it Ronald?" she huffed, continuing to write.

Draco picked up the letters. "We need to know more about these if we're going to find her," he stated, handing them to Ron.

Running a hand through his hair, he put his now empty tumbler down on the desk and unfolded the letters, placing them in order.

"She got this one while we were in Morocco. Before she fell pregnant with Cosimo," he sighed. "We took no notice, thinking it was just Death Eater sympathisers trying to stir up trouble."

He pointed to the second letter. "This one arrived just after we came back here." He looked up at Draco. "I wanted her to tell you, but she wouldn't."

Draco nodded, understanding Pansy's stubbornness. It almost rivaled his wife's. _Almost_.

"This one arrived the day before Cosimo's naming ceremony. She still wouldn't let me tell you, so I tried to pay them off, thinking that they were just trying to frighten her with stories because of her Father."

Hermione thought back to the day of the ceremony. Ron had been upstairs, Pansy unable to find him. Now, Hermione realised why: he'd been contacting the blackmailers.

"This one arrived a week later." Draco took the letter, reading the taunting words about it being useless sending money, that what they were after was priceless and they would find the key whether Pansy helped them or not." He shuddered at the thought of how far they might go to achieve their ends.

Ron grimaced, "This last one arrived two days before she was kidnapped. I told her we should come home and alert you, both of you, but she wouldn't listen. Merlin, why the fuck didn't I make her listen?" Ron growled, striding over to the sideboard and pouring another drink.

"Pansy has always been one to do things her own way. She almost never accepts help from either of us. It's always been her way," Blaise told him.

Ron took a gulp of his drink, looking over at Hermione, uncertainty washing over him for a moment before he turned to Blaise. "I need her back, Zabini. I've never loved anyone like I love her."

Hermione stood from the desk, silently crossing the room, reaching for Ron's hand. He blushed a deep shade of crimson at his frank revelation in front of his former girlfriend. She smiled reassuringly, reaching up to cup his cheek in comfort.

"We will find her; this is what my husband and I do best: Major Cases like this are our forte. It's why Harry hired us, after all," she grinned, hoping to break a little of his tension despite her own fears. She looked over at her husband, wondering if he was still in a funk. Not that she blamed him, but she did think it was a bit unfair of him to take his frustrations out on her.

Draco rolled his eyes at the typically Gryffindor-esque show of affection. Silently, she glowered at him, her eyes conveying her thoughts. " _Stop being a prat, I married YOU didn't I?"_

He returned her look with one of his own, and she immediately knew his overriding emotion was fear. Suddenly, she felt a pang of guilt. Ron had his parents here. Draco needed her by his side. Giving Ron's hand one final squeeze, she walked over to Draco and took her book from his hands. Hermione gave his shoulder a small squeeze before settling back down at the desk.

.

Sometime later, Hermione put her quill down and rubbed her temples, arching her back that ached from being hunched over her work for so long. Looking round the room she realised Ron and Blaise were no longer there, presumably having gone to bed. Her gaze fell on the leather couch in front of the fire where her husband lay reading.

"What time is it?" she croaked, her voice hoarse. She reached for the now stone-cold tea beside her, grimacing at the taste, but thankful that it soothed her parched mouth.

Draco rose from the sofa, placing the letters on the desk as he stood behind her, gently massaging her shoulders and neck. She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch.

"A little after 2am," he murmured, feeling her reach for her quill. "Oh no you don't," he told her.

Hermione frowned as she felt him place his hand atop hers, stilling her movement.

She sighed as he pulled her up.

"Bed."

"I'm not a child, Draco," she admonished, allowing him to lead her from the room anyway.

"No, just a workaholic," he stated, grinning at her frown.

"You were working too!" Hermione complained as he lead her up the stairs.

Draco gave her hand a squeeze. "No my love, I was waiting for you to be done."

"I'm not even tired," she moaned, slipping into bed as he held the cover up for her.

Draco chuckled as he climbed into bed behind her.

"Of course not, dear."

Within seconds, she was fast asleep, and with an exhausted sigh, Draco followed right along, his arm wrapping securely around her waist.

.


	6. Chapter 6

Screaming pulled him from his unconscious state and instinctively he grabbed his wand off the nightstand, his eyes snapping open and darting about the room, senses on alert.  
He felt her thrash next to him and realised she was having a nightmare. Generally, they were less frequent these days however stress was still a trigger for her.

Gently he soothed her, trying to coax her away.

"Shhsh, Hermione, it's me, you're safe" he whispered as he felt her sob in his arms.

"It's ok, you're safe" he repeated, stroking her hair.

"Draco?" she whispered, reaching for him as he brushed his thumb over her cheek, rubbing away the tears that made rivers across them.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked her gently, searching her honey pools that glistened with unspent tears.

She shook her head, reaching up and threading her fingers through his locks, pulling his lips down to hers. She needed this, needed him, to feel grounded, connected again.

He paused, his mouth grazing hers, as he checked her expression, confirming what he already knew. He understood her in a way Ron never had, so much so they had learnt to read each other's expressions. So many times in the past they had fought because of misunderstanding and miscommunication. For two very intellectual individuals, it often seemed like irony on a karmic level that they could both misunderstand the other's words. But in breaking down each other's barriers they had found a way to understand each other without words.

She moaned into his mouth as he parted her lips with his tongue, massaging her own as he deepened the kiss. He allowed her to pull him in, taking the comfort that she sought from him as he reached his hand under her lower back. In one swift motion he tugged them both over, groaning as she straddled him. Eyes glazing over, he watched her as she took control, asserting her dominance over him, knowing what she needed right here and now. Snaking his hands up to her breasts, he gently kneaded them as she rocked against him with her growing arousal. Forgoing foreplay, she reached for him, sliding his length between her slick folds before grinding down onto him, her breath hitching in her throat as he hissed underneath her. Adjusting to the fullness, she stilled for a moment before finding her pace as he gripped her hips. He watched mesmerised as her fingers slipped between her folds, teasing her clitoris as she threw her head back, her keening cries reverberating around the room. Neither of them had bothered to silence the room but she was so caught up in her lust that she didn't care who they woke. She needed this. Letting out a feral moan, she clenched around him as her climax ripped through her, Draco's arms catching her before she came crashing down. Rolling them both over, he felt her writhe under him as he picked up his pace, bringing her left leg up, her ankle resting on his shoulder as they both marvelled at the deepness of the new position. Blinding light flashed behind his lidded eyes as he reached his own completion, sweat matting his hair to his forehead. He sunk down into the bed, his arms still holding her to him, still buried within her, as he delicate fingers wiped his hair from his brow. Neither said a word as they caught their breath back, bodies glistening with the evidence of their coupling. A mess of limbs and tangled sheets, both drifted back to sleep content.

.

Tossing the letters back down on the coffee table, Draco groaned loudly, his hands going to his hair.

"Weasel!" he bellowed, rising from the sofa and stalking to the door as Blaise and Hermione exchanged worried glances.

"WEASEL!" they heard him bellow again, as Blaise made to follow him, his hand to his wand just in case.

Ron came crashing into the lounge from the kitchen, a half eaten sandwich in his hand.

"What?" he hissed, glaring at Draco.

Draco sneered, "Get out of the fucking kitchen and help us"

Ron looked at him, confused.

"Well you might try with giving us a bit more information about where it was you were. We need a fucking starting point. I should think that much was fucking obvious" he turned on his heel, stalking back to the study.

Hermione looked up from her books, eying Blaise as he glanced at her from the doorway. "Can you help me with this text please Blaise?" Hermione asked, indicating to the runes. She was quite adept herself at ancient runes, but being the only fluent Farsi speaker, she had been concentrating on the Persian texts.

Blaise nodded, settling into the seat next to her at the vast desk. He had become quite accustomed to the three of them working alongside each other when the pair had Venetian cases and had missed this while Hermione and Draco had been on their honeymoon, however he would have prefered different circumstances.

Draco grabbed his notebook and quill, watching as Ron padded into the study, taking a seat in the wingback chair next to the fire. He glanced around the room, unsure where to start.

"We were staying in Maârif. The Parkinson's owned an apartment there. It's where we were living before we came here. After the war it had become Pansy's. It's quite an old apartment, the Anfa district of Casablanca is largely a wizarding area but it has a modern muggle touch. I loved it there, but Pansy said it gave her the creeps. Something about the upper floor unnerved her and she never went up there. Warded it so that no one could." He glanced each of them "I am not stupid" Draco coughed and Ron glared at him before continuing "I know what her Father was into, so I never questioned it. I just didn't want to upset her" he sighed.

Blaise stole a look at Draco. They had heard talk about the Parkinson's properties but again, never pressed Pansy for information.

"We need to go there" Draco told Ron firmly, rising from the couch.

.

Entering their suite, Hermione watched quietly as Draco set about packing.

"You're not telling me something" she said quietly, leaning against her dresser.

Draco continued pulling clothes from his dresser, before shutting it with his hip. He dropped the stack of clothes on the bed, looking up at his wife.

"That apartment" he began, something about his tone causing a chill to go down her spine "neither Blaise nor I have been there before, but we have heard stories. Before the war. It was implied that we would need to go there at some point. For a ritual."

Hermione's eyes widened as her mind went into overdrive, mentally flipping through all she new about Persian Dark magic rituals. The possibilities frightened her.

"We might need to include Bill on this" Draco told her.

Hermione nodded. "If it's anything like what I imagine from what I learnt in Baghdad, it will make the stuff in the Zabini vault look like child's play" she agreed.

.


	7. Chapter 7

The redheaded man stood head and shoulders above most of the witches and wizards scurrying about the atrium of the Moroccan Ministry of Magic. Leaning casually against the reception desk, Draco nodded in his direction signalling the arrival of the eldest Weasley to his wife who stood beside him filling out requisition forms.

"Malfoy" he greeted him cordially extending his hand.

Draco accepted the gesture amiably "Weasley."

Hermione put her quill down on the Onyx counter "Bill!" she cried, embracing him warmly.

"Hallo Bookworm! Look at you!" he exclaimed, holding her at arm's length, scrutinizing her with a grin across his face "Warmer climates clearly suit you" he winked, referring to her hint of a tan which gave her skin a honey kissed complexion and brought out the golden highlights in her hair.

She screwed up her nose "Bill! Must you use that ridiculous nickname!" she complained, giving him a playful smack on his arm.

"Said with love I promise!" he told her with a grin.

Draco rolled his eyes "Honestly, must you two carry on like a couple of Hufflepuffs?" he grumbled, tapping the forms and looking pointedly at Hermione who stuck her tongue out at him.

"Charming" mock derision laced his voice as he threw her a look of contempt.

"You love it" she murmured, picking the quill back up to complete the forms.

Draco turned to Bill. "The apartment was sealed by the Auror department after they searched it. It was the last place your brother and Pansy were before they boarded the yacht so Standard Operating Procedures required it to be treated the same way: search, bag, tag and seal" he explained as Bill nodded his understanding. Draco handed the man a form.

"We need you to sign this before we can brief you. You won't be able to discuss any of this with Ron" Draco studied Bill's face as he scanned the page. "Is that going to be an issue?"

Bill shook his head "I have a feeling that you have requested my assistance for a reason" he told him somberly "If what I suspect is true, it's better for Ron the less he knows."

Draco hummed his agreement as Bill signed the form. Taking it, he handed Bill a "Special Investigative Consultant" badge. He turned to Hermione who handed the bundle of forms to the petite brunette at the desk "Ready?"

"Almost" she answered, handing the witch their wands. They both felt their magic wash over them as the witch completed the process deftly.

"Here you are, the wards should accept you now" she told them, handing Draco and Hermione their wands.

.

Reaching the apartment, Hermione took in their surroundings noting that they were very similar to where she had been living in Baghdad. The building itself was very nondescript and quiet. Not at all what she had expected, having seen the Parkinson manor not long after the war. It was located in a quiet part of the wizarding borough, and she felt the wards that kept muggles away as she crossed their threshold. The feeling unnerved her as she sensed the darkness. She stole a quick glance at Bill who frowned, his features setting with concentration. Clearly he had sensed it too.

The investigative trio drew their wands as they entered the eerily quiet building. Draco took charge signalling how they would approach the apartment before ascending the staircase. Reaching the door, he tested the wards, probing them for anything out of place. Satisfied, he broke them, unlocking the apartment, before entering to check there had been no breach. He felt his heckles rise as he scanned the apartment but could not find a reason for the feeling. Stepping back out into the hallway, he motioned for Hermione and Bill to enter.

"Can you feel that?" he asked Bill, controlling his features as he looked over at him.

"Yes" he confirmed, using his wand to trace the source of their unease.

"Ron mentioned the upper floor causing Pansy to feel so uneasy she wouldn't go up there" Hermione told him, her eyes narrowing at the wooden staircase on the far wall.

Bill nodded "That is certainly where this energy is emanating from" he confirmed, making his way across the room. Draco and Hermione searched the lower floor while Bill set to work disabling Pansy's wards.

"Did you notice none of this was in the report?" Hermione stated as she and Draco looked over the papers on her desk.

Draco pulled open the desk draw. "I did" he muttered, pulling out her Father's notebooks and slamming them down on the desk "and they apparently didn't think it necessary to search this place properly"

Hermione took up one of the notebooks, a frown forming as she looked over the text "This is all very similar to Bakhtak's notes."

.

Bill peered over the balustrade of the mezzanine that wrapped around three quarters of the apartment. "I've got some of the wards down, you might want to come take a look at this" he told them cautiously.

Draco and Hermione shared a look before ascending the staircase. Bill stood on the mezzanine next to a set of Deodar wood doors with grotesque carvings on them. Pushing the doors open, Draco stepped in, Hermione and Bill close behind. The three felt the magic flow over them as they crossed the threshold.

"Oh my god" muttered Hermione as she took in the room.

Draco let out the breath he hadn't realised he had been keeping in.

"I've never seen an alchemy lab quite like this" he murmured, taking in the rows and rows of liquids in glass vials, the cases of potions ingredients, the two teak benches that took up the centre of the room with cauldrons of various types and sizes, glass boiling flasks and distillation kits and the bookcases that lined the far wall, filled end to end and floor to ceiling with thick tomes. To the left was a large arched window, covered with heavy velvet drapes. To the right, opposite the window, stood a stone altar covered with a velvet cloth of deep, rich purple, on which sat a silver blade, various candles, a small pewter cauldron and a silver chalice. In the middle of the altar sat a large tome, covered with a thick leather binding.

Hermione took a step forward, before feeling Bill reach out and place a hand on her arm. She looked up at him confused.

"Wait" he told her, his wand raised. Carefully, he approached the book, probing it's charms with his wand. "This is the source" he stated, working to make it safe to handle.

Hermione stood rooted to the ground watching Bill work as Draco walked carefully around the benches inspecting the equipment.

"I think they must have been working on creating a Philosopher's Stone" she murmured.

"They succeeded" Draco informed her, tracing a finger through the powdered remnants of one of the cauldrons.

"That wasn't all" Bill stated, opening the now safe book. "Take a look at this"

Hermione gasped as she saw the title. "This is 'The Ocean of Mysteries'."

Bill and Draco looked at her confused.

"It's a fabled Persian dark magic book. It's existence was thought to be a myth"

Draco cleared his throat

"Well clearly it's a myth no longer."

.


	8. Chapter 8

Placing the antique coffee decanter back on its matching metal tray, Hermione took her delicate cup of al qahwa and sipped the liquid thoughtfully, savouring the bitter, slightly spicy taste. She picked a date from the tray and nibbled on it before turning to Bill.

"There's still something puzzling me," she began as Draco looked up from Parkinson Snr's notebook.

"Ron told us the room was heavily warded. I assumed that meant that the wards would be blood wards."

Bill nodded. "Pansy's wards were actually quite complex blood wards. I didn't need to take them down, however; because we are all accepted by them as relatives of Pansy. The only wards I needed to take down were wards placed recently."

Draco looked confused. "You I can understand, you are Cosimo's uncle, but I don't understand, therefore, how Hermione and I were able to get into the room if the blood wards remained in tact."

"Because we are Cosimo's god parents," Hermione told him, as her mind turned the puzzle over in her mind.

Draco swallowed heavily, not liking where this was going. "So in that case…."

Bill nodded slowly "They had to use Pansy to get in there."

"That must be why there was nothing about it in the report." Hermione gasped, realisation dawning.

"Because the blood wards stopped anyone who was not related from realising there was another floor."

Draco set the notebook down on the desk "Are you able to establish a time frame?"

Bill frowned. "They felt fresh. I would say, less than forty-eight hours. Pansy was taken Friday, yes?"

"Yes," Draco confirmed.

Bill considered his response for a moment, "I would say she must have been brought here sometime on Sunday evening. I don't think they are any older than that."

Hermione looked from Bill to Draco. "Question is, where did they take her from here?"

.

Draco opened the notebook up. "I think I have something," he gestured for Hermione to take a look. Coming to his side, she looked over what he was showing her. "Do you recognise any of this?" he asked her.

She ran her fingers over the runes scratched into the page. "Not exactly, but I have seen this before. The marks here tell you in which order to read the pages. It's almost guaranteed that if we tried to translate the text without paying any attention to the direction of the marking, we would not be able to understand it."

Draco looked up at her. "Where did you see it used before?"

"In the Baghdad library. It's an encoding method that was used to hide alchemy and magical secrets, but it's also been used in cartography. I think what you have there is a map," she stated, pulling parchment towards them from the other side of the desk. "We need to make a copy, translate, and then decode it," she told him, wordlessly charming the pages of the notebook to copy onto the parchment as Draco watched in awe. His wife was truly amazing.

.

"Hermione?" Draco gave her a gentle nudge as he set the teacup down beside her.

"Humm?"

"Tea, love. Drink it," he instructed as she continued to scribble furiously.

"Hermione?"

She set the quill down and rubbed her eyes, stifling a yawn.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Ok, that's it. Drink your tea then I'm apparating you back to the hotel."

"What? No, I still have…..half the book to go," she muttered, taking a sip of the tea and reaching for the quill again.

"No. Come on love, you need some rest."

Hermione glared at him for a moment before sighing, "Fine." She glanced around the room. "Where's Bill?"

Draco stared at her. "He left about three hours ago. He needed to get back to the Ministry. He said goodbye, you even answered him!"

Hermione frowned before shaking her head and finishing her tea.

.

Rolling over in his sleep, he reached across to gather his wife into him, only to find the other side of the bed empty. Popping one eye open, he glanced across at the clock on the nightstand. With a groan, he rolled back over and pulled himself into a seated position, ruffling his bed-head and rubbing his eyes with the heals of his hands. Groaning again, he stood up and padded out to the lounge adjoining the bedroom.

"Any idea what time it is?" he asked her without even looking towards the table where his workaholic wife sat scribbling away. Opening the minibar, he scowled at the contents before retrieving a carton of orange juice.

"Get a glass, don't drink it out of the carton," she instructed, her eyes never leaving the page.

Draco groaned again before grabbing a glass and slamming it down on the counter.

Hermione turned in her seat, throwing her husband a filthy look. "What's got your wand in a knot?" Anger ran like an undercurrent to her words.

Draco ignored her question as he poured the juice into the glass before chugging it back in one go.

"It's 3:20am Granger."

"Malfoy," she corrected him, her eyes narrowing in defiance.

"What?" he asked, challenging.

Hermione shook her head. "No, not you," she pointed to him, then herself. "Me."

Draco rubbed his eyes, confusion etched his face as he sighed, "Hermione, it's too late at night, or early in the morning, depending on how you want to look at it, for you to be talking in shitty fucking riddles. What are you on about?"

Hermione glared at him. "I am not talking in riddles, arsehole, you called me Granger."

Draco gave her a look as he threw his hands up, indicating that she would need to explain her last point further.

"I haven't been Granger for two bloody weeks, tosser, my name is Hermione MALFOY," she hissed. Draco looked confused for a beat before realisation dawned.

Hermione groaned loudly before returning to her work as Draco set the now empty glass back down on the counter.

Padding over to her, he placed his hands on her shoulders "I'm sorry, love. It was habit." He chuckled "I've been calling you Granger since we were eleven years old. It's hard to break old habits."

Hermione grunted in response, unimpressed.

"Look, it's late. You shouldn't be up working, you've only had a couple of hours sleep. Come back to bed." He whispered, kissing her neck before he felt her pull away.

Standing straight, he sneered, giving the back of her head a look that, if she had actually seen would have reminded her there and then of an eleven year old Draco Malfoy before stalking back towards the bedroom.

"Fine! Work yourself to death, see if I care!" he complained.

Hermione threw his departing back an equally childish look, unable to stop the words before they started to tumble out of her mouth "It's not my fault I am the only one who seems to give a fuck about find….."

Draco spun on his heel pointing a finger at her menacingly, cutting the rest of her words off "Don't. Do not even fucking dare to go there, Hermione. I do give a fuck. I want my friend back. I have known that girl since we were small. I looked out for her like a sister; if Theo and Blaise were my brothers, then Pansy was my fucking SISTER. So don't. Just because I don't want my WIFE to worry or work herself sick, does NOT mean I don't give a fuck."

He crumpled onto the sofa exhausted, his head in his hands.

Hermione bit her bottom lip in shame, placing the quill down on her work. Slipping out of the chair, she crossed over to where her husband sat, kneeling in front of him, taking his wrists in her small hands, resting her head against his.

"I'm sorry" she whispered.

Draco didn't move as he willed the tears that pricked behind his lidded eyes not to fall. Malfoy's did not cry.

"I'm shit scared, Hermione" he muttered unmoving.

"I know" she whispered.

Draco pulled his hands away from his face, his misty grey eyes searching her face, judging her sincerity "Do you? Because a moment ago it didn't sound like it."

Hermione bristled at his words as guilt stabbed at her heart. Neither spoke for a moment. Finally, Draco sighed and pulled her into an embrace.

"We will find her" she told him, trying to sound every bit confident as she thought she ought to feel.

Draco nodded before placing a chaste kiss on her forehead

"I hope so."

.

* * *

**A/N:** Al qahwa is made from coffee beans roasted very lightly or heavily from 165 °C (329 °F) to 210 °C (410 °F) and cardamom, and is a traditional beverage in Arabian culture. Traditionally, it is roasted on the premises (at home or for special occasions), ground, brewed and served in front of guests. It is often served with dates, dried fruit, candied fruit or nuts.

.

I just want to take a moment to thank my beta xxDustNight88 who has patiently sat and gone over each chapter but has also been very encouraging from the start about this. It took as long as it did to get going with this story because although I had an idea in mind I was quite nervous about writing this sequel- M for Murder is currently at 39k views which just blows me away every time I see that and I so want this to be as good as that. I also want to give a shout out to my sister and my mum who have also patiently sat and proof read chapters and listened to me prattle on about the plot. And if you're ever in the UK come visit the tiny West Sussex village of Barnham where you will find a small coffee shop and a girl hunched over her laptop with a pot of tea, arguing with the manageress about synonyms and how to conjugate tricky verbs...thats usually how my sister and I "talk through" my chapters anyway, much to the coffee shop owners dismay!

D84 x


	9. Chapter 9

The hot water beat down on his back as he stood under the shower, eyes closed, his forehead rested against the cool tiles. It was quarter to six in the morning and so far he had been in this same position for fifteen minutes. Both he and Hermione had tossed and turned, neither getting much sleep after their argument in the early hours before finally rising. It was now Friday and Pansy had been missing a week. Hermione seemed hell bent on working herself to death and for his part, he was torn. Truth be told, he wanted to work just as much as Hermione, but he saw the effect that working so hard had on her and insisted on her taking breaks to eat and sleep and every time he found her working in the early hours it caused an argument. This is not how he pictured married life with her starting. His cock hardened at the thought of how he had actually pictured it, his physiology betraying him and he tried to ignore the throb of desire. With a grunt he gave in, grasping his length as he leaned his left forearm against the tiles. He heard the bathroom door open and his witch come in and relieve herself. Just as she was about to leave the bathroom, his hand reached out of the shower and grabbed her wrist, pulling her in suddenly. She gasped from shock at the action and the suddenness of the water that pounded down on her, saturating her clothes, her mouth fish-gaping as she hyperventilated.

"Draco," she rasped, angered by the action. "What the hell?"

He responded by shoving her roughly against the tiles, his lips crashing down onto hers forcefully as he pressed his length into her, signalling his want. Responding in kind, she bit his lip hard and watched as he took half a step back at her, his hand coming up to his mouth as she glared at him. Neither moved for a second as they sized each other up, before her anger gave way to arousal and the pair roughly grabbed at the other. He ripped her sodden clothing from her silky skin, depositing it unceremoniously outside the shower as the both licked, nipped and sucked, taking what they needed from each other. Her keening cries reverberated around the bathroom as he slipped two fingers between her slick folds, driving them into her hot core as his thumb found her clit. She moaned into his mouth as he slipped his tongue between her lips, massaging hers as he brought her deftly to her climax. He held her, shuddering, against the wall, stopping her from slipping down as her knees buckled. As the feeling subsided and her trembling ceased, he hitched her leg up around his waist, pushing into her, pinning her in place as he pounded her into oblivion, seeking his own much needed release. Biting down on her neck, she cried out as pain melted into pleasure. Cursing her name, he found his release as the bright white light flashed across his mind, followed by a moment of sheer clarity as images came forward from the darkest recesses of his mind. It was like looking into a penseive, as he watched the hooded figure stand over his sixteen year-old self who watched another kneeling in the centre of the pentacle. He grasped at Hermione's shoulders as the two of them crumpled into a heap on the floor of the shower, spent and gasping for breath. Willing himself to stay with the vision, the images flashed to the Parkinson Manor and then a villa in Southern France, flashing over an ancient parchment before dissolving into the image of Hermione looking up at him. She cupped his cheek with her hand, concern in her hazel orbs.

"Draco?" she whispered as he stared at her, his grey eyes wide with an emotion she couldn't quite place.

Blinking back at her, he sensed her confusion.

"You're a million miles away," she whispered, her thumb caressing his cheek.

Snapping out of his reverie he grasped her wrist. "More like a million years away," he told her, his caliginous tone sending a chill down her spine, reminding her of a former version of himself. Searching his eyes, she watched as his features softened, as if sensing her unease. Reaching forward, he cupped her neck, pulling her in for a soft kiss, his tongue sliding languorously across her lip as she moaned. Breaking away, he smiled before helping her up from the base of the shower, reaching for her soap and pouring some into his hands, and then massaging it into her skin. Turning away from him so he could lather her hair, she tried to shake the sense of foreboding that hung like an ominous cloud over them.

Finishing up, he reached to shut off the shower, helping her to step out before gathering her into the fluffy complimentary towel he held out for her. Stepping into the lounge, she made a beeline to the minibar, taking a bottle of water out and unscrewing the cap, her focus on Draco as he crossed over to the table where their work was spread out. She watched as he spread out the sheets, his eyes searching for something unspoken.

"What was that about?" she asked carefully, sipping the cool liquid as she fiddled with the cap.

Draco moved pieces of parchment about, humming questioningly. He paused looking up at her waiting for her to elaborate.

"Just now, in the shower," she nodded towards the bathroom. "Where were you?"

Draco pulled out a chair with a heavy sigh, sitting on the edge, unsure how to put into words what had happened.

"Remember I mentioned the ritual that Blaise and I were expected to perform?" he asked, watching as she nodded. "There was a moment...just now...when I had a memory surface. It was hazy…." his voice trailed off. No stranger to PTSD and flashbacks herself, she nodded understanding his difficulty in expressing what had happened.

"This map," he said, gesturing to the sheets of parchment that were strewn across the table, looking across at her. "I think I've seen the original."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Where?!"

"In my Father's study."

"What is the map of?" she asked, setting the now empty bottle down on the table.

"Languedoc."

"Southern France?"

Draco nodded "The Malfoy Family is originally from Montpellier. We have a chateau in Murviel-lès-Montpellier," he told her. "It has its own vineyard. Quite popular with the Muggles actually…." he trailed off. "Don't look at me like that, you know what my Father was like. His hatred never stopped him from making a profit," he spat, remembering Lucius' hypocrisy. "Anyway, there is a villa on the estate. It's more or less in ruin now, but I remember one summer we were on holiday there with the Parkinson's. Pansy and I were running around the estate with training brooms," he smiled at the memory before continuing. "We stumbled on the villa, it had been abandoned for some time. Pansy dared me to go in, and father was furious. That's all I remember."

Hermione sat down opposite her husband. "That area of France is famous in Muggle history, are you aware of that?" she asked.

Draco shook his head.

"The Moors invaded the area in the 700's, around the same time as they were invading the Iberian Peninsula. This is around 800 years before the Ottoman Empire invaded Venice." Grabbing her quill and a piece of parchment, she sketched out a rough timeline. "They brought with them science, medicine, mathematics, architecture, universities, water systems, alchemy and magic."

Draco looked up at her, his face contorting with a mixture of amazement and confusion.

Hermione smiled, "I know what you are thinking, but at that point in history, much that was known to Muggles later as science was regarded at that time as magic. Of course, we understand from the History of Magic that some of this _was_ magic and at that time, the lines between dark and light magic were blurred."

Draco tapped his fingers lightly on the table, lost in thought for a moment.

Hermione stood, coming to his side and squeezing his shoulder as he looked up at her.

"I think we need to go to France."

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	10. Chapter 10

Screwing up his features, he peered over his wife's shoulder.

"What is that you're reading?"

"EEG mapping including patients with normal and altered states of hypnotic consciousness under the parameter of posthypnosis, Bick-Institute and Hospital, Dahn W. Germany," she replied with a curt nod, watching him out the corner of her eye.

Draco gave her a disparaging look. "In English?"

She smiled as she turned the page. "Brain scans, darling."

"I see," he replied, not really seeing at all why she was reading about brain scans, "and you are reading this because?..."

"I was intrigued."

Yes, that sounded about right.

She closed the journal, turning in her seat, watching as Draco gripped the armrests slightly.

"I don't know why you always insist on travelling like this," he hissed. "Don't you think it's a little ironic, given that you hate flying?"

Glaring back at him she retorted, "It's not the same, and stop being such a child about it."

He pursed his lips. "I am not being a child. I just do not like how it feels when these things take off"

"So distract yourself then."

"Fine," he hissed, nodding to her copy of 'The International Journal of Neuroscience'. "So what has you so intrigued?"

"You," she stated with a grin as his eyes snapped round at her. "Yesterday's shower incident. I think in that 'moment' your brain went into Theta waves, unlocking repressed memories for you. Just like deep meditation or hypnosis," she theorised. "Mystics spend years trying to achieve what you achieved without even trying."

"I'm not sure I know how to respond to that," he replied, his brow creased with confusion. He closed his eyes as he felt the turbulence of take off rumble through him as his chest tightened. Hermione reached across and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. Despite the earlier bickering she comforted her husband knowing his irrational fear could not be helped. She ghosted a kiss over his white knuckles before turning to look out of the window with a sigh. She really hoped that they would find some answers in France.

.

Hermione felt the gravel of the driveway crunch under their feet as they walked up to the Chateau. The ancient wards were rusty but had let them apparate into the grounds without issue as they were both Malfoys. They both drew their wands as they entered the building, which had seen better days. With a flick of his wand, Draco lit the atrium, hearing Hermione gasp next to him. It was no more or less opulent than the Manor, and the lone house elf had clearly continued to maintain it as best as he could but it was stunning as far as Hermione was concerned. A pair of crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, the polished marble floor reflecting their light. A magnificent stained glass window above the entry-way allowed natural light in, shining the Fleur de Lis and Malfoy Crest down onto the centre of the atrium. It really was beautiful. Draco took her hand and lead her through the Chateau as they checked each room to ensure nothing was amiss. He took this opportunity to explain a little about the history of the property which had been in the Malfoy family for generations.

Entering the Master Suite, she grinned, "Typical."

Draco frowned. "What is?"

"Every property your family owns, the Master Suite is always decorated the same," she chuckled. "Slytherin Green"

His eyes widened. "You know, I never noticed"

.

Taking her hand again, he lead her out of the Chateau and across the grounds. Hermione gasped in awe of the gardens which rivalled those at Blaise's villa. They strode through the tree lined parterres which Draco explained had been designed in 1700 and were modelled after Chateau de Versailles. As they came round past the central fountain, it sprung to life, feeling the magic of the couple that passed by. They hurried down the steps at the end of the path, striding down the carefully manicured lawn into which the largest wizard made lake Hermione had ever seen had been cut out of the middle. Passing into the forest, Draco explained how it had been used by his ancestors for hunting. Finally, they reached the orchard, and in the distance, she could see the wild cottage garden that surrounded the little crumbling villa. Despite having found no trace of dark magic in the Chateau, they drew their wands as they approached, their highly trained senses alert to any possible danger.

Stepping into the villa, Draco checked it was safe to proceed before motioning for Hermione to follow.

"Lumos," he murmured, glancing around, a scowl forming on his face. Something was amiss, but he couldn't quite place it. Pulling a door open to what he presumed was the drawing room, he moved his wand about and in the half light, he noticed white lines on the floor reflecting the flicker of light back at him. Suddenly, the fireplace roared to life and the candles all lit up around the room, and in the small crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

He hadn't realised he was gripping Hermione's hand until she whimpered slightly next to him as his grip tightened. Turning to her, his eyes were wide with shock as he stumbled back allowing her to see into the room.

Painted on the floor was a large pentacle and against the far wall was a stone altar, upon which sat a silver knife, a book, a pewter cauldron, various candles, and a silver chalice. She turned to Draco who was visibly pale- a hard feat considering his natural complexion- and she squeezed his hand before entering the room. Tentatively she made her way over to the altar to inspect the items, her fingers reaching out, almost touching the blade. Furrowing her brow, she lifted her wand and murmured the incantations to a number of spells before spinning round to face her husband.

"This blade, is covered in blood; Pansy's blood."


	11. Chapter 11

Pacing the length of the lounge, he pulled at his hair in frustration.

"Fuck, Hermione! If...if she's….Fuck!" he stammered, before kicking a chair over, panic rising along with the bile that threatened to spill from his gut. Turning, he slumped down the wall, crumpling in a heap as sobs wracked his body.

Hermione went to him, reaching out to pull him into her embrace.

"She isn't dead," she whispered.

"How do you know?" he rasped, his voice hoarse as he looked up at her with pleading eyes.

"The vivus sanguis spell. It tells me whether the blood is from a living or a dead person. It was one of the spells we developed while I was undercover," she explained, stroking his hair. "Pansy is definitely alive. She must have been here. What we need to figure out is why, and where they took her next."

Draco rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, grinding his tears away. "I know I should know more about the ritual, but it's not coming back to me," he told her bitterly.

"We will figure it out," she whispered.

.

Lacing her fingers with his, she felt the familiar tug in her navel as her body contorted, pulled into one spot with a pop and then snapped back out into another almost instantaneously as Draco side-along apparated them back to the Chateau. She tried not to stumble or throw up as she tightened her hold on his hand; she really wasn't keen on the feeling it gave her. Ascending the grand staircase, he directed her along to the west wing of the building, stopping before a rather ornate set of oak doors. Removing the charms that kept the room closed off, he threw the doors open, listening for his wife's very predictable reaction. Her breath hitched in her throat as she took in the sight of the most beautiful library she had seen outside of Baghdad. With a smirk, he watched her enter, her face filled with amazement as she reverently made her way along the stacks. Pausing at the balustrade, she turned and made her way down the little staircase that took her to a central study area. The little side lamps sprung to life, lighting as she settled down at the desk, her delicate hands tracing the ornate carvings along the edges of the table.

"I thought you would like this," her husband grinned, half a level above her, as he leaned on the balustrade.

"I love it," she whispered.

.

Scribbling notes, she paused to check the text once more, her fingers hovering just above the page as she chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip. Draco watched her surreptitiously over his own text, stifling a groan; he did enjoy watching his wife work. Shaking his head, he returned to the text, hoping to glean some insight into what the ritual was that had taken place in the villa. A light tapping at the window interrupted his focus, and with a sigh, he placed the book down on the table before jogging up the little staircase and making his way over to the window. Taking the parchment from the owl, he opened it carefully, scanning the contents.

With a growl, he descended the staircase, handing the note to Hermione as she looked up, confusion and concern apparent on her face.

"You're not going to believe this," he spat venomously.

Hermione scanned the note quickly.

"How can they have lost her father's fucking yacht?!" Draco fumed.

.

Green light flashed across the marble floor as the floo roared to life in the atrium. Hermione rushed down the grand staircase, throwing her arms around her friend in a tight embrace.

"Harry!" she cried.

"Hello 'Mione," he grinned, planting a friendly kiss on her cheek. Looking up, he saw Draco stride across the atrium with purpose. "Malfoy," he greeted with a cordial handshake.

"Potter."

Hermione linked her arm through her best friend's and the trio made their way into the drawing room. Settling into the leather sofas that were the central feature of the room, they brought each other up to speed on the various parts of the case. Harry had remained in Spain to see if he could shed any light on the other kidnappings and the smuggling, enlisting the Major Case Squad team from Venice to track movements of wizards in and around the ports along the Mediterranean. They had put a trace on Pansy's father's yacht the moment that Ron had reported her missing.

"Two days ago, the trace was activated," Harry informed them, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stave off the migraine that threatened behind his eyes. "The yacht disappeared from the Spanish Impound where it had been kept since it was found in the Bay of Cadiz, minus Pansy."

"Yes, I still don't understand why it was claimed the yacht was drifting, given that Weasel had reported her missing. Surely it was secured immediately," Draco stated.

Harry shook his head. "That's the thing, Standard Operating Procedure doesn't seem to have been followed. Ron reported her missing and they brought him in immediately for questioning. Then, for some reason, no one secured the yacht. It was drifting in Spanish waters for some time, before it was impounded and then searched. I had requisitioned access to it three times and I was denied three times. Then the trace was activated."

"I don't like any of this," Hermione muttered, her eyes narrowing in thought.

"How long before the team track it down?" Draco asked.

Harry glanced at his watch. "I'd say at least 36 hours from now."

.

His eyes drooping, he closed them momentarily before he felt the book in his hands being tugged away.

"Come on you," Hermione murmured, a smile forming on her lips.

Draco took her hand and turned it slightly, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist, listening to her breath catch in her throat.

Once upstairs in the Master Suite, he turned the covers down and slid into the bed, as Hermione finished up in the bathroom. Looking up, he felt the familiar thrill of desire course through his veins as he took in the sight of his wife, her loose curls flowing across her shoulders like a golden cascade, a simple yet elegant Emerald green neglige showing off her beautiful hourglass figure. Draco swallowed hard as he drank in the glowing image. Smiling, she made her way over to the bed and crawled on top.

"Hey you," she whispered, a coy gleam in her eye.

"Hey " he smiled back, reaching out to tangle his hand in her hair as she straddled him.

She pressed her lips against his gently, moaning slightly against his lips as his hands cupped her neck, drawing her in. Everything about the kiss was calm, sensual and slow for a moment before desire kicked in. Soon lips, teeth and tongues crashed together as they ripped all the fabric between them off, throwing them to the floor along with any remaining inhibitions. Hermione moaned as his teeth found the column of her throat, grasping at his shoulders, and digging her nails in. Draco hissed at the new sensation as his hands kneaded her smooth alabaster flesh. Dipping his hand between them, he groaned as his fingers coated in her slick heat, finding her nub as she keened above him. He lined up his length to her opening as she writhed on top of him, engulfing him as their hips joined. She controlled the rhythm as his hands kneaded the perfectly round globes of her rear. Slipping her fingers between her scorching folds, she cried out his name as she clenched around him coming undone, her juices flooding her as he called out her name like a litany. Collapsing in a mess of limbs, she ran her hands through his hair as he buried her face in her bosom.

With a heady sigh, they drifted off to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

Teasing his bottom lip with her tongue, she felt him respond with a groggy kiss as a sleepy smile formed on his lips.

"You're insatiable," he murmured, feeling her hands ghosting across his chest as she pressed herself into him.

"You don't normally complain when I wake you for sex," she murmured against his slick, sweat covered skin as her tongue found his nipple. Grazing it with her teeth she felt his hands find their way into her hair.

"You don't normally wake me every thirty minutes, Hermione," he grinned, his eyes still closed. "What's brought this on?" he murmured, his fingers finding her chin, tugging her up for another kiss.

"Oh nothing," she murmured, against his lips.

She felt him stiffen as he pressed a chaste kiss, his eyes snapping open to scrutinise hers. He pulled back, watching something flicker across her eyes before she looked down, attempting to kiss his neck. She wouldn't allow him to hold her gaze.

He pursed his lips, before rolling away, sitting himself up on the edge of the bed. Beside him Hermione shuddered. Reaching forward, he retrieved his boxers, tugging them on before striding towards the doorway.

"Get up," he told her. "Now."

"What the fuck?" She hissed, "You can't order me out of bed, Draco. I am your wife, not a child."

Turning in the doorway, he fixed her with a stare.

"I do believe it was your rule, not mine, that we never argue in the bedroom and I can guarantee that what I am about to say is going to cause an argument because I am fucking livid." He glared at her before striding into the living room.

.

Furious at his behaviour, Hermione grabbed his t-shirt off the floor and threw it on before storming out of the bedroom.

"What the fuck has gotten into you?" she cried, eyes flashing with fury.

"Me? Do you think I am fucking stupid or something? I cannot believe you would actually do that." he yelled, enraged.

"What are you even talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, Princess; you are the 'Brightest Witch of Our Age' remember?" he spat, sneering at her.

Hands on hips, she threw him a look of pure loathing. "Care to enlighten me, Husband Dearest, on what transgression of mine it is that has caused you to behave like a complete and total arsehole?"

For a moment, she reminded him of his Mother. He shuddered at the thought before pushing it to one side.

"Trying to trick me with sex," he yelled.

Hermione scoffed. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No, Hermione, I am deadly serious."

For a moment neither said a word as they stared the other down.

Glaring, Hermione began cursing him in French.

"Don't even start all that shit," he roared, pointing a finger menacingly at her. "I thought it was odd. I mean, it's not exactly like we have been able to have the start to our marriage I imagined. After all, we are working a case, but I thought what the hell; we are married, and we should be able to enjoy a passionate night," he yelled, watching her redden at his words. "But then you hesitated. You fucking hesitated, Hermione, and then you wouldn't look me in the eye." Hermione winced at his obvious hurt. "I can't believe that you would actually try to force me to recall things from the war like that. I have done a lot of fucked up stuff, but I have NEVER forced you to remember and certainly not like that."

Hermione watched, tears forming in the corners of her eyes as Draco grabbed his wand from the coffee table and threw a hex at the vase on the sideboard, smashing it to pieces.

He was right and she felt awful.

"Draco…" she began.

"Don't. I am too fucking angry right now," he warned.

"Fine! Be a total fucking arsehole about it," she yelled, grabbing her wand.

Suddenly a loud pop echoed round the room, and the pair snapped their heads to the direction of the noise. On the coffee table sat a large white box.

"Fuck sake," Draco muttered, slumping down on the couch next to the table where the box sat. Hermione sank into the seat next to him.

"I guess that was our first fight then," she murmured, eyes focused on the box as she worried her bottom lip.

Draco lifted the lid off the box, and they watched as two scrolls appeared alongside a glass of white wine and a tumbler of Firewhiskey. Reaching into the box, Draco took out the parchment with the red ribbon tied around it and handed it to Hermione, who smiled as her fingers found the little silver, goblin-made charm in the shape of an otter that adorned the ribbon. He then removed the remaining parchment, the corners of his mouth twitching at the sight of the little silver dragon charm. Hermione took the glass of wine, leaving Draco the Firewhiskey. Tendrils of magic laced around each of them, forcing them to opposite sides of the room, encapsulating them in their own bubble of silence.

Slipping down the wall, Draco unrolled the parchment, siping his Firewhiskey. The amber liquid burned the back of his dry throat as he read.

_Draco,_

_I probably feel rather torn right about now, as I'm sure you can guess. I was hoping to never have to use these boxes...that our inevitable fights wouldn't get to this point. Alas, here we are, and I guess it's time to get down to it._

_I'm not sure what we're fighting about, but I know neither of us wants to back down. We're both so stubborn in our own ways. That's one of the things I love about you, Draco. You fight for what you believe in, even though it's rather subtle. I also love how even though we don't always agree, you take the time to hear me out...even when I'm wrong. Yes, Draco...I am openly admitting that I can be wrong. It's rare, but it does happen. Occasionally._

_While I know you're obviously furious with me right now, I want you to know that we'll get through this, whatever it may be. Together. I've never felt as close as I do to you, Draco. I want you to know that. I want you to know that after we've both had time to cool off and come back to our senses, I'll be standing there waiting for you to open your arms and welcome me home._

_I'm sorry for whatever "swotty" things I've just said to you, and I'm sorry for hurting your feelings and making you think I don't care, because I do. I do care...so very much. I love you, Draco. I'm sorry. Please forgive me, because I will most certainly forgive you._

_Love, Hermione_

As Draco read, Hermione grabbed the throw cushion from the wingback chair, slinging it down on the floor, before depositing herself cross-legged upon it. With a soft smile, she unravelled the parchment and began to read as she sipped her wine.

_Hermione,_

_I hate that we have to write these letters. Couldn't we just fight it out like normal couples? I can almost imagine the way your eyes will narrow at that. Of course we have to write them, you will think while glaring across the room at me. Anyway, I guess with our record, these boxes will come in handy eventually. So here goes nothing…_

_Whatever we are fighting about, I'm sure it's not nearly as bad as we're making it out to be. I'll admit that we can turn the smallest of disagreements into full-fledged wars. Clearly, whatever is happening right now warrants our own personal "time-out". I'm sure I'm being stubborn and reluctant to follow through with this ordeal, but I want you to know that I support your silly idea._

_That's just it, Hermione. I'll always support you, even when we have our disagreements and fights. I may scowl and throw my sarcasm about like it doesn't matter, but that's just me, as I'm sure you know. When we married and took our vows, I promised to support, protect, and love you until the day I die, and I will never falter in that. Never._

_So if it means I have to write you silly little "fight-box" letters that reinforce how I feel about you, then so be it. I love you, Hermione. I apologize for whatever it is I've said or done this time. Can we make up now? I want to kiss you even just writing this silly thing._

_Love, Draco_

Tears flowing freely down her face, she looked up to find that Draco was now standing over her.

"I'm sorry, " she whispered, her hazel eyes pleading with his misty grey orbs for forgiveness.

Sitting down next to her, he tugged her into his lap, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I know, love," he told her gently, stroking her hair.

"My ideas are not silly," she murmured through her tears.

Draco frowned for a moment, remembering the day, a week before their wedding, when she told him about the 'First Fight Box' and they'd sat down to write these letters. He chuckled, "Well it wasn't a sane idea you had was it?"

"I guess not," she muttered, looking down at her hands.

"I know you want me to remember, I want me to remember, but you of all people should know this sort of thing cannot be forced," he told her somberly.

Hermione nodded. "I dunno what I was thinking," she murmured looking away.

Draco tilted her chin up, coaxing a kiss before quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Come on, let's go back to bed and make-up properly."

.

* * *

**A/N:** Massive love and thanks to my wonderful beta xxDustNight88 who wrote the letters for me, without knowing how the argument would play out...because thats exactly how the letters would have been written, prior to the wedding, without any knowledge of what they would end up having their first fight about. Inspiration for this came from something I came across on google. The First Fight Box is a box with love letters written to each other and a bottle of wine, nailed shut at your wedding so that when you have your first fight you can open it up and then read the letters opposite ends of the room while drinking the wine. The idea is that you then realise what its all about...I thought that was a beautiful idea so decided to work it into the story to help our OTP to calm down after one of their more bigger arguments :) D84


	13. Chapter 13

Persistent tapping pulled her from deep sleep She groaned as her eyes fluttered open. With a sigh, she pulled herself to a sitting position, reaching down to retrieve Draco's t-shirt from the floor before padding across to the window. Retrieving the note, her vision started to blur a little at the edges as a slight wave of dizziness washed over her. She clutched momentarily at the dresser below the window before the feeling subsided.

"Shit," she murmured as she took a steadying breath. A little voice inside her head suggested that she ought to listen to Draco more when he warned her about working herself into exhaustion. She scoffed at the notion that he might be right about something as she opened the note.

Scanning the contents, she headed out of the suite and down to the library, pushing the doors open quickly, searching for her husband. Already sat at the desk, their work spread out across the surface, he looked up as she hurried down the little staircase.

"It's from Harry," she rushed out, handing him the note. "They have found the yacht."

.

Striding along the jetty, they made their way towards the yacht, wands drawn. Aurors had been stationed at various points, the team surrounding it moving in at Draco's command. Crossing the threshold, they moved in sync, securing the perimeter, before entering the living quarters. Muffled screams came from the room at the far end as they made their way along the corridor. Reaching the door, Draco glanced at Hermione, his ever stoic features masking his inner turmoil. Turning the handle, he thrust the door open, his wand raised, ready for an onslaught that never came.

"Secure," he called over their muggle communication devices, courtesy of the Major Case Squad Quartermaster. Only then did Hermione step into the room, gasping at the sight of four witches, each bound to a chair using the incarcerous spell, their voices muffled with a charm.

Casting the counter curses, she worked quickly to free them of their restraints.

.

Sitting in the dining room of the yacht, each witch huddled under a blanket, fingers clamped tightly around steaming mugs of tea laced with a healing potion and a calming draught. Hermione watched as the mediwitch checked their vitals once more. The door creaked open, breaking her reverie as Draco popped his head in, motioning for her to come out of the room.

"We need to interview them," he stated quietly.

"I know, but the mediwitch said that we need to give them some time," she whispered.

Draco slammed his hand against the panel of the wall opposite.

"Damn it, Hermione; they might have information about Pansy," he ground out, frustration evident in his voice.

Hermione gave his shoulder a squeeze. "I know, love, but we are more likely to find out if that is the case by giving them some time to come to terms with what they have endured. If we rush in too quickly, they will shut down and we won't find out anything," she explained, her gut twisting a little with guilt at the memory of their argument the night before. _How ironic_ , she mused.

.

Closing the door with a soft click, Hermione made her way to the main saloon where Draco and Harry sat waiting for her. Sensing her approach, Draco looked up, searching his wife's face for any hint of what she had discovered from the interviews.

Seating herself next to him, she gave his arm a gentle squeeze before she began.

"They were each under the imperius curse, brought on board two days ago. Each had been blackmailed prior to their kidnap and subsequent cursing. All were taken to their family estates to search for hidden items, not one can recall what specifically they were asked to search for. Not one of them was successful in this endeavour, nor did they recognise the photograph of Pansy I showed them." She explained, glancing at Draco.

"I don't understand," stated Harry as he took off his glasses, rubbing his tired face with his hand. "Why were they left on the yacht for us to find?"

Hermione shook her head. "That I do not know, but there's more. Each witch had their left hand bandaged." She turned to Draco. "Does that mean anything to you?"

Draco screwed up his face in thought, his fingers coming up to scrub furiously at his forehead. Pausing, he turned to Hermione, his eyes wide with realisation.  
"Blood wards!" he stated, pointing to his left hand. "The left hand is always sliced with a silver blade to alter the wards. That must be…"

"...why we found her blood on the blade," Hermione finished, trembling.

"So then they must want access to one of the Parkinson's properties," stated Harry, realisation dawning.

"Which one?" asked Hermione as Draco stood and started to pace the saloon.

"I have no idea. It could be any one of them," he muttered, interlocking his hands behind the back of his head. "I need to get back to the library."

Harry looked up at him and then across to Hermione and back again "Okay, that was weird."

.

Opening the ledgers he had obtained from the Moroccan apartment, Draco searched for the list of properties owned by Pansy's father. There were at least half a dozen that he knew the location to and a dozen more that he was unsure of.

Hermione frowned. "What we need is a map," she murmured.

Draco's eyes snapped to her, "Of course!" he cried, planting a triumphant kiss on his wife's cheek as he took the stairs two at a time, striding out of the library with purpose. Moments later there was a crack beside her and a house elf stood rubbing his hands on his shirt, his eyes refusing to meet her curious gaze.

"Mistress, the Master requires you in the West Wing study," the elf informed her in a slow drawl that reminded her of Krecher.

"Thank you….. I am sorry, I do not know your name."

The elf scowled, scrutinising her carefully before looking at her with his beady eyes. Disdain laced his voice, "Skervus," he replied.

"Thank you Skervus. Could you lead the way?"

The elf slinked away as Hermione dashed to keep up as she followed him along the oak paneled corridor.

"I know where I saw the map now," Draco informed her as she entered the study.

"Where?!" she cried.

Draco pointed to the far end of the rather impressive study. Thick velvet drapes hung from floor to ceiling; approximately 20ft Hermione estimated. In between hung a magnificent map of Languedoc below a 3ft Malfoy Crest made from porcelain which hung impressively above the map.

"There."

.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks once again to my beta xxDustNight88 for being so brilliant :)


	14. Chapter 14

"Narbonne?" Hermione repeated, "Are you sure?"

Draco nodded. "It is the biggest estate mentioned in the ledger, and look," he pointed to the map. "It's right here on the map"

"Have you been there before?" she asked, watching Draco out of the corner of her eye.

Draco ran his hand through his hair. "I don't know. I am trying to remember but it's hard." he shook his head. "I just don't get why I don't remember any of this."

Hermione turned to face him. "I guess everyone reacts differently to war. You had so much to deal with, and all of it was forcing you to confront things that had previously been just ideology. Suddenly you were thrust into the situation of it being reality; of watching teachers killed before your eyes." She shuddered, pausing. "Classmates being tortured in front of you," she whispered as he reached out, pulling her into his arms, taking his comfort readily. "I can understand your need to lock everything away," she sighed.

.

_Hooded figures stood at the altar. The silver blade raised. Candle light flickering across the room. Kneeling inside the pentacle. Head bowed, left hand raised, trembling. Wand slicing flesh, blood dripping into the bowl, magic tingling. The Stone. The Elixir. Drinking from the chalice._

Draco awoke suddenly, bolting upright. He was dripping with sweat, tangled in the sheets. He glanced over, his wife sleeping soundly next to him, her curls cascading across the pillow like a golden halo, alabaster calf exposed. Turning to lean across to the nightstand, he grabbed the watch she had given him for his last birthday and checked the time. 3:23am. He needed to get all this down before he forgot. Hurriedly pulling on his boxers, he headed out to the next room to grab parchment and a quill.

.

He felt her hand come down across his chest before her lips gently grazed his neck as he scribbled furiously. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she read his notes.

"I had a dream," he told her. "I remembered some of the details. I think I need to go and take another look at the villa."

"What? Now?" she murmured, kissing him again.

Draco smirked. "No, I am not you. I will go in the morning."

Hermione swatted him on the arm playfully.

.

Stumbling from the apparation, Hermione gripped Draco's hand tight. He glanced over at her. "Are you alright?" he asked her, concern thick in his voice.

Hermione nodded, swallowing down her nausea. "Just a bit dizzy," she told him.

Draco frowned. "I told you that you were working yourself sick," he murmured.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I am fine!" she stated as they walked into the drawing room. Standing inside the pentacle, Draco explained his dream.

"I saw the ceremony. The initiate was kneeling in the pentacle. His left arm was raised, then sliced open with a wand. Blood was collected in the bowl. Then they gave the chalice to the initiate," he pointed to the chalice on the altar. "It was filled with the Elixir of Life."

Hermione frowned, her mind pulling forward all she could recall from her research into Nicholas Flamel. "In order to maintain his immortality, Nicholas had to keep drinking the Elixir. The immortality was not fixed," she stated.

Draco turned to her, and said, "I am guessing then, that this cup they wanted, they needed because of that. What if that is exactly it and they need the cup to drink the Elixir in order for the immortality to be fixed?"

Hermione nodded. "That certainly fits. Is there a room like this in Narbonne?"

Draco frowned, trying to recall. "I would think so. Clearly they are intending to break the wards, hence needing her blood," he shuddered at the thought.

"I feel like we are missing something vital," Hermione stated, her eyes narrowed in deep thought.

Draco nodded. "I guess we need to go to Narbonne then."

.

Eyes narrowed, he watched his wife carefully as she took a steadying breath before drawing her wand. Approaching the wards, Draco tested them with his, probing them for any signs of alteration. Something didn't feel right as they approached the tall, iron gates halfway along the driveway. A chill went down Draco's spine causing his heckles to rise; senses on full alert.

"Can you feel that?" he asked Hermione, throwing her a sideways glance.

Hermione nodded, nervous apprehension causing her to feel nauseous.

Raising his hand to the gate, he felt the cool iron slick under his touch. Pulling his hand away, he was alarmed to find it coated in crimson.

His eyes darting from his hand to Hermione, complexion paling to almost translucent, he cast _alohomora_ and forced the gates open. He was surprised how easy the wards fell, his stomach plunging to his feet from the implication. Breaking into a run, he made for the Chateau, alert to the possibility this was a trap. Hermione hustled after him, signalling her own approach of the tired building to Draco who nodded his understanding.

Entering the atrium, they secured each room in turn before entering the drawing room. Draco entered first, wand drawn; Hermione providing cover. Frantically his eyes searched, relief washing over him when they fell on Pansy bound to a chair in the middle of the room. The gash on her left hand was still fresh, crimson pooling on the floor as she bled.

Tears silently streaked down Pansy's face as the pair set about casting the counter charms to those that bound her, silenced.

"Oh Merlin!" she cried, breaking into sobs.

"It's ok, we have you; you're safe," he told her, pulling her into his arms and planting a kiss atop her head.

Pansy shook her head. "They are here. Gathered in the North Wing drawing room. Father always forbade me to enter the North Wing. Now, I know why," she choked back her tears.

Draco frowned as Pansy grasped at his shirt, her eyes wide with fear.

"They are creating 'The Immortals'."


	15. Chapter 15

All the colour drained from Hermione's face at Pansy's words.

"The Immortals? Are you sure?"

Pansy nodded. "They want an army of immortal followers. They are going to attack the Wizarding world and bring about a global Wizarding and Muggle war."

Shocked at her words, Draco saw a flood of images rush across his psyche as he recalled conversations and ceremonies. "This is what The Brotherhood have wanted from the start. Voldemort wanted to purge the wizarding world of muggleborns because he believed only the Pureblooded were worthy of magic. But this is the next step; Total domination of the Muggle population and eventual eradication."

Hermione shuddered at his words. "We need backup, " she told him, casting her patronus.

.

The team surrounded the North Wing, wands drawn and ready to move in on Draco's command. Auror snipers were stationed on the roof, specialist long-range wands developed by the Global Wizarding Alliance, poised for action. Meanwhile two Brotherhood sentries patrolled the corridor outside the drawing room.

"We move in on my command," Draco radioed the team, "Remember, Auror Granger-Malfoy and I will take out the Grand Master, the rest of you, neutralise as many Brotherhood targets as you can. I want as many in custody as possible, but you are authorised to use any force necessary to avoid anyone evading capture."

The first sentry guard turned into the corridor where Draco and Hermione were standing in the shadows. Reaching out, Draco's hand clamped down on the guard's mouth as Hermione wordlessly cast _stupefy_ followed by _incarcerous_. Dragging the stunned guard into a nearby room, they made their way down the hallway. The guard had his back to Draco, unseeing, sensing a fraction of a second too late as his knees buckled underneath him. Slipping into the drawing room, the darkness providing their cover, they watched as the Grand Master handed the initiate the Cup of Immortality.

"Now!" Whispered Draco across the radio link.

.

Glass shattered as Aurors burst through the windows of the drawing room; green, purple and blue light flashing as hexes were cast from every direction. The Brotherhood members scattered in a confused frenzy, as they panicked; the brave fighting back with hexes, the more cowardly attempting to flee the scene of the wand-fight only to be caught by waiting Aurors and MLE agents. A stray hex caught one of the candles on the altar, toppling it over, the flame catching the heavy drapes that covered the window above the altar. The fire spread quickly, smoke filling the room. Draco glanced over to Hermione who was engaged with the Grand Master in a fierce battle. Racing to her side, he joined the fray, as they struggled to hold them off. Something caught his eye and his glance darted over to the altar, his eyes widening with fear. Grabbing Hermione by the waist, he threw her down on the floor as a blinding light shot across the room milliseconds before the explosion tore through the building, sending stone and glass in every direction as the darkness enveloped them.

.

Pansy watched in horror from where she sat on the boundary of the estate, huddled in a blanket with an auror as the explosion tore through the Chateau. Struggling to her feet, she felt strong arms grasp round her middle as she screamed for all her might.

.

Anguish apparent on his face, Harry Potter picked through the debris of what had once been the Parkinson Chateau, surveying the damage with dread. He looked up as an Auror jogged through the dust and smoke.

"Sir, I've found them."

.

The MLE medic team carried his best friend and her husband on stretchers towards the MLE apparition point, ready to take them to Saint-Pantaléon's, the French wizarding hospital. Harry refused to allow the tears that pricked at his eyelids to fall.

.

The healer closed the door to the room with a soft click before turning into the family waiting room. Harry and Ginny both looked up, trying to read the expression on the healer's face, preparing themselves for the worst while hoping for the best.

.

Taking off his glasses he pinched the bridge of his nose, Ginny sobbing into his shirt as he gently squeezed her shoulders. He tried to process what he had been told.

Coma. Effects of previous cruciatus curse. Next 48 hours key. Four Aurors killed. Seven Aurors critical. Two stable. Call family.

.

A ward orderly brought in tea that nobody touched, Pansy clinging to Ron as she silently sobbed. Blaise comforted the ever stoic Narcissa. All any of them could do was wait.

.

Arm in a sling, Draco shuffled into the room, his face ashen. Narcissa stood, moving towards her son. Collectively they held their breath as they watched the matriarch take him in her arms. At her touch he crumpled, his body wracked with sobs for his wife.

.

Pacing the room, he felt trapped like a caged animal. Forty-eight hours the healer had told them. He had been out cold seventy-two hours Potter informed him.

.

Staff rushed by as caterwauling resounded along the ward, blue lights streaking along the corridor. Draco rushed out the room, only to find himself held back.

"You cannot go in there, Sir," the nurse informed him as he watched the door swing back, the sight of his wife's seizure terrifying him beyond belief. Blaise held him back firmly, comforting him as anger gave way to anguish.

.

The two men sat on the floor, elbows rested on knees as they waited outside her room. Eventually the healer came out, took one look at the pair giving them a sympathetic smile.

"She is stable now."

Draco howled with relief.

.

Startling awake, he chastised himself internally for nodding off. The mediwitch knocked softly on the door before bringing in the portable bed for him to sleep on. He wouldn't be using it.

.

He watched as the mediwitch took her vitals for the umpteenth time before handing the chart to the healer. The healer flicked through the notes before nodding at the mediwitch with a humm. Smiling he turned to Draco.

"I am happy with your wife's progress, she should start coming round as soon as we wean her off the potions which we are beginning to do. I expect her to make a full recovery and I am confident that everything is well for them both."

Draco stared at him, confused.

"I'm sorry….both?"

The healer smiled. "Your wife and child, Mr Malfoy"

**.**


	16. Chapter 16

Walking into the family room, his heart in his mouth, he tried to process what he had just been told. Harry, Ginny, Ron and Pansy rushed forwards, the girls clutching at him, his stunned expression causing confusion.

"What did the healer say?

"How is she?

"Is she awake yet?"

"Will she be okay?"

Voices came at him as he stood there, staring blankly at their faces.

He blinked several times, before looking down at Ginny, whose eyes swam with unshed tears.

He tried to speak, but all that came out was a strangled sob.

Ginny collapsed in front of him, shaking her head. "No, no, I won't believe it," she cried.

Draco shook his head, grasping at her hands, "She's…." he took a steadying breath and began again, "She's going to be okay."

Ginny let out a sound somewhere between an anguished sob and a relieved groan.

Harry watched him carefully, his eyes narrow.

"What is it?" he asked slowly.

Draco looked up, focusing his gaze on Harry, gulping. "She's six weeks pregnant."

.

Starting at the feel of a hand on his shoulder, Draco looked up, sucking in a breath. "Theo!"

"I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner, I was at my villa in Greece with Juliette. I only got the owl yesterday. I came as soon as I could," he explained, sitting down in the chair next to him.

Draco nodded, glancing back at his wife.

"Potter filled me in about the case and the explosion," he continued somberly.

Draco sighed. "Most of them were killed in the blast, but the body of the Grand Master was not located in the rubble and trace couldn't identify any of the DNA as matching his." He shook his head, and added "It was all for nought, the bastard is still at large."

.

Eyes fluttering open, she frowned as the sudden flood of the hospital lights engulfed her vision. She rasped out a groan and felt the familiar rough heaviness of her husband's much larger hand grasp at her fingers. Turning her head, she saw him staring down at her, shock flickering over to relief, and then his head was buried in the crook of her neck as he sobbed. Slowly she lifted her other hand up, her fingers finding their way into his hair. Her dry eyes tingled as she felt her heart clench inside her chest. Despite the potions, her whole body ached.

Draco lifted his head, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, kissing her forehead and then her dry lips.

"Hi," he whispered, planting a second chaste kiss on her lips before composing himself.

"Hel-lo," she croaked, her voice hoarse.

.

"Honestly, Weaslette! I only went to the coffee cart and you lot all barge in here and make yourself comfortable on the bed," he complained, exasperated. Ginny rolled her eyes at Hermione, who grinned before throwing Draco a look of utter contempt. He stared her down until she understood the message.

"Come on you lot, let's go see if Narcissa has finished tearing that Healer a new one," she sniggered, tugging at Harry's sleeve and attempting to usher Ron out the door, giving Draco a knowing smile as she left. Pansy gave Hermione a quick kiss and waved before slipping out.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked, turning to Draco.

"They tried to tell mother only family could visit for now in an attempt to get her to kick the Gryffindor Gang out," he informed her smiling, taking her hand and interlacing their fingers.

"Hermione…" he began, his expression and tone turning serious. He reached up and brushed the loose curls from her face, tucking them behind her ear. "I didn't say anything before. I wanted to check with the healer first…"

"What is it?" she cut him off, starting to worry.

"Have you noticed anything different?"

Hermione frowned.

"Have you been feeling different?"

"I feel like I've been run over by a stampede of Thestrals," she told him, confusion marring her brow.

He smiled, "No love, before the explosion."

She thought for a minute. "Yes, but I am not going to admit you were right," she murmured.

Now it was Draco's turn to look confused.

"I admit I was working hard but I am not going to admit to exhaustion," she confirmed, pursing her lips."

"No?" he smiled, an eyebrow quirked.

"And I admit to feeling a bit peaky, but I am not admitting to starving myself. I only missed a couple of meals," she huffed.

Draco grinned, enjoying watching her squirm.

Hermione huffed again, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "What?"

"You aren't exhausted or starving…."

"No, I know that," she cut him off, rolling her eyes.

"You're pregnant," he whispered, watching her reaction.

Hermione gasped, " _Pregnant_?"

Draco nodded.

"We're going to have a baby?" she whispered, tearing up.

Draco nodded, leaning in to kiss her.

"We're going to have a baby, Mrs Malfoy."

.


	17. Epilogue

"Can you all raise your glasses please? First of all, I'd like to wish our godson, Cosimo, a Happy 2nd Birthday. We love you." Hermione smiled at the auburn haired infant. "And secondly!" She continued, turning to Draco beaming at him "Congratulations to my husband, 100 cases solved! I am so proud of you." She leant in and kissed Draco soundly. "Cosimo and Draco," she cried.

"Cosimo and Draco," their three dining companions chorused.

"Yea, I _definitely_ didn't think you would make it to 100 cases."

"Shut up Zabini!" Draco scowled.

"But then, I also never saw it coming that you would name me this little cherub's Godfather." He beamed at the babbling infant in his arms.

"We can still take it back," Draco raised an eyebrow at him.

Blaise tucked Scorpius into his chest possessively. "No, you're okay."

"Seriously you two," Hermione cried, scooping her son into her arms. "I'm just taking him up to bed," she told Draco, leaning down to kiss him. "Say goodnight to your Papa," she murmured in a sing-song voice. Scorpius babbled as Draco kissed him goodnight, watching the two depart.

"I think I better take Cosimo up too," Pansy told them, standing, Ron kissed his forehead before handing him over to Pansy with a smile, "Goodnight champ."

.

Pausing at the door to Scorpius's nursery, Pansy leaned in, smiling at Hermione who sat in a rocking chair reading to the sleeping infant.

Hermione looked up and smiled back.

"Motherhood suits you, Hermione," Pansy whispered, coming in and picking up one of the soft bears from the crib, fiddling with it.

"Thank you. Although, I think Draco has taken to parenthood a lot better than I have," she confessed, placing the open book against her chest.

"Nonsense." Pansy shook her head before throwing her a sideways glance. "Besides you had plenty of experience mothering Potter and Ron," she smirked.

Hermione smiled at the memory.

"I never got a chance to properly thank you," she whispered.

Hermione placed the bookmark in the book before putting it on the nightstand. She rose and took Pansy's hand.

"No thanks needed; we are family," she told her, pulling her into a hug. "Come on, let's go have a glass of wine and talk about the boys in your room," she smiled. Pansy nodded.

.

Closing the door with a soft click, she padded along the hallway and down the stairs. Pausing at the first floor landing, she heard the soft murmur of her husband's voice.

Leaning in the doorway, she smiled adoringly as she listened to him read to their son who lay sleeping soundly next to him.

"I thought you told me he was too young for Shakespeare?" she murmured, watching as his gaze lifted from the text to meet hers.

Draco scoffed, "Not now he isn't. He was too young when you were reading to your stomach."

Hermione smiled. "Don't think I don't know you read to him then too."

**Fin**

* * *

**A/N:** Well what can I say?! Other than thank you to everyone who has followed this epic journey through from start to finish... it really has been phenomenal and I still cannot believe what this little plot idea turned into...and of course I say finish, but we might not be quite there yet because I have left this open ended on purpose...whether I come back to this with another multific, I don't know yet (remember I originally said there wouldn't be one after M for Murder lol) or whether I continue to update Wizarding Law and Order: Major Case Squad (which is currently on hiatus because I was writing this) I have yet to figure out...but in the meantime, if you haven't already, come check out Pansy's back story in the new and currently WIP prequel **P for Pansy**! Thank you once again to my amazing friends xxDustNight88 and Torigingerfox for their fantastic support throughout this journey, honestly girls I know I say this a lot but it really is thanks to your encouragement, support, beta duties and all the all night chats that this is even on here. I love you two xx

Love to all, D84 x


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